American Territory
by ArthurKirklandIggy
Summary: When Arthur goes sailing on his old pirate ship to relax, what happens when Alfred's navy catches up to him? Fluffy USUK.


_**AN: Hey guys, this was co-written by me and Yazuki Ookami. I'll Bold Arthur's POV and leave Alfred's plain.**_

_Warnings: A little language. This story is 100% Fluffy with a heaping side of USUK. I do not own Hetalia or the characters._

**A slight breeze caught the hat of Captain Arthur Kirkland as the sailing ship caught winds and started picking up speed. The Brit had decided to go sailing and, for the hell of it, wear his pirate outfit. The sails really were for show, since the boat was motorized and all, and so he could find himself somewhere else much faster.**

**Arthur hung tightly to the netting of the ship as he dangled off of the side to catch a glimpse of the open waters ahead. He loved dangling from the netting. It freed him. It allowed him to forget his problems and make his life simple again.**

**After a few hours of sailing, the Brit had no earthly clue where he was on the waters, but he knew he was in deep shit. A naval boat, from which country he didn't know, was in fast pursuit, thinking that the "galleon" was actually used for pirating. Since being a pirate was illegal for most of the world now, it was dangerous for Arthur to pretend to be one again. He has manning the ship as fast as he could. However, there were only two people on the boat, making the feat much more difficult.**

**"Try to loose them in the fog," Arthur shouted to his dear friend and old first mate, John. A fog had rolled in on the warm waters since the air was getting cool. Soon, the galleon wedged itself into the fog and hopefully disappeared from the naval ship's sight. After a few minutes of drifting, everything on the ship was shut down and Arthur retreated to his quarters below deck. No light could escape the room, so he was able to keep the lights on to plan their course of action.**

**He went to the sonar and was able to pinpoint that he was getting close to a third of the way to Alfred's house. The Brit sighed and said to himself, "That stupid git probably has his naval boats out here just in case." He cursed as the ship rocked heavily from a blast and ran up to the deck.**

**When he got to the deck, he saw that the fog wasn't as thick as he originally thought and the naval ship was indeed an American vessel. He took off his hat and told his shipmate to raise a surrender flag, in hopes that the crew of the other ship would understand the misunderstanding.**

**After a few minutes, a few men boarded the ship, took Arthur and his friend as prisoners, and took them on-board the naval ship to take back to America.**

**"You can ask Alfred! I wasn't really pirating! I was merely sailing the ocean as I used to without being a bad guy, really!" Arthur said, fighting the shackles.**

**"Really now," said a man with a heavy Texan accent, "Why don't we all go make that trip?"**

**Arthur gulped, hoping that Alfred would not be a prick about this. It was a few short hours before they landed on Alfred's home soil. The Brit was roughly pushed to his knees in the dirt as he heard footsteps.**

**"Well, well, well. Look what I have here," Arthur cringed as he heard a familiar voice. Alfred F. Jones. The Brit had never heard the other talk that way before, "A sea scum." Arthur looked up and the green eyes met the bright blue ones. There was silence for a brief moment, before Arthur felt a cold hand grasp his hair from behind and pull him to standing.**

"I have to say I didn't expect an old man to be causing so much trouble for my Navy," Alfred smirked down at him, his cerulean eyes glinting behind his glasses in mock surprise. He then began shouting orders to his naval crew, "Put the first mate in the brig and the captive's ship in the holding bay."

**Arthur growled at the cold hand of the naval officer as the Texan said, "I think you're in big trouble." A shiver crawled down his spine as the sickeningly hot breath of the larger man slithered over his ear, "The boss loves to deal with criminals fiercely." A fleeting look a fear crossed the forest green orbs as he watched his friend being taken hostage. Swallowing a lump in his throat, he growled, "Hey! He didn't do anything! Punish me, but please let him go!"**

Alfred watched as the first mate was being dragged down to the brig, a look of regret passed over his face, but only for a fleeting moment. He then turned back to the captive Brit at his feet, "So... Pirate," The American spat the word, "Do you want to explain to me what you are doing in North American waters, on a pirate ship, with no boating license, wearing a, clearly fake and not to mention tacky, pirate get-up?" Alfred smirked and began pacing in front of the captive male as if to assert his authority, "Because, from what I see, you my friend," he stopped and pointed at a strangely silent Arthur, "are in deep shit with the UN as of right now."

**Arthur stayed quiet as Alfred insulted him, his ship, and told a lie about him being on American waters. "I admit that yes my outfit is tacky, but it is not fake," he hissed, anger filling the regretful orbs, "I do have a boating license, and I was not –Ow," he paused as the Texan man pulled his hair, "on American waters. You had your ships on my waters. And I'll let the UN decide if I'm bloody guilty. Not your sorry ass."**

Alfred stared back in shock at the sudden outburst from the shorter male. After a few moments of silence, yet again, between the two Alfred began to speak again, this time in a softer, slightly offended tone, "Well then, I'll have my men check on that then. The license I mean." Alfred then turned to the men standing behind him, "I need one of you to search the captured ship for a boating license and someone else needs to contact the UN. ASAP." The men ran off to do as they were told; only leaving the two nations and the Texan. "Captain Sanders, I want you to continue holding the prisoner. You have a firm grip. Though, it's not likely this small fry'll get away anyhow." Alfred grinned mockingly at the restrained Brit.

**Arthur hissed as Captain Sanders held him tighter, feeling anger swell at Alfred calling him a small fry and the Texan chuckling at the orders. The Brit growled at the comment and stomped the man's shoes with his steel bottomed boots. Once the man was distracted, he took his foot and kicked back into the larger man's crotch. Sanders, or whatever the hell his name was, let go of the blonde and fell to the ground. Arthur then charged for Alfred, his eyes narrowed and teeth ready to bite whatever they came in contact with.**

The American nation was just barely able to move out of the way of the enraged man and get behind him. He quickly wrapped his arms around the smaller man, trapping the Brit's arms, and almost crushing his lungs. Now the taller male was just pissed. "Dammit, Arthur! You could'a ripped my arm off! The hell?" Alfred didn't even wait to hear the Brit's reply. He turned to Sanders to see how he was holding up after that surprisingly brutal attack... well, the Texan definitely wasn't going to be detaining anyone anytime soon. "Well, damn..."

**Arthur growled as Alfred held him down surprisingly well. The anger didn't wear off but his adrenaline did. Though his heart was beating from the attack, a little part of him knew there was something else. Something he was too blind to see. "You don't ever call me small-fry, dammit! Do it again, and I'll see that you go to hell personally," the Brit yelled, looking back at the man. A sharp pang struck his heart. He didn't really mean that did he? Yes, he... did? He wasn't sure anymore. Sure, Alfred was a dick, but... Oh bloody hell. The Brit wasn't sure of anything he was feeling at the moment. It was like that time he wasn't sure he was catholic or protestant (he was protestant now), but more personal you know.**

Alfred would have responded to Arthur's feeble attempts at being threatening, but he was distracted by his men running back from their mission to the galleon. "S-Sir?" one of the men asked, "Is everything alright here?" "Yeah! Perfectly fine." The tall blonde said as Arthur tried at a weak attempt at getting away again. "Oh, well um... right then," The naval officer cleared his throat, "We found a copy of the boat license, and Lieutenant Rogers has contacted the UN."

"Alright, thank you." Alfred smirked down at the Brit in his arms, "Well, I'm still going to have to take you down to the brig for questioning about your illegal pirating. Men," Alfred grinned like a cat, "I'll take care of the questioning. Someone take care of Sanders, and other than that, you're dismissed." The officers snickered as Alfred roughly pushed Arthur towards the brig. "That guy has no idea what's coming to 'im." One man snickered. The rest laughed loudly to that, "Yeah, Boss'll rough him up a bit alright." "I kinda feel sorry for the guy." Another round of laughter towards Arthur's peril ensued.

**Arthur growled as he was forcibly taken aboard the American vessel. He passed his friend in a room on the way to where ever Alfred was taking him. Once he was sat down and tied up for some odd reason, He looked up to Alfred and said, rather softly, "You know I wasn't doing anything illegal." The soft green orbs stared steadfastly into the cerulean ones.**

Alfred's heart jumped a little at that look, but he held the gaze, and even smirked back. "So... I guess we'll start this questioning easy. Name?"

**Arthur's mouth dropped, "The hell, Alfred? You should now my bloody name by now. I thought I raised you better than that!" The blonde was just awestruck at the taller male. What the hell was he getting at? Alfred really must be a dick, then.**

Alfred rolled his eyes, "Just answer the damn question."

**"Arthur Kirkland," the shorter blonde said rolling his eyes in a very exaggerated fashion. What? The bloody United Kingdom couldn't act like a five year old from time to time? The hell with that.**

"See? That wasn't so hard was it?" the American replied in a patronizing tone, "Age?"

**"Yes. Yes it was," the Brit sighed and said, "Really? What the hell, Alfred?" The way he said it was calmer but more confused, "I knew you were weird, but how much do you get off on antagonizing me?"**

Alfred blushed, choosing to avoid the question. Gritting his teeth, he repeated his own question.

**"_Dau ddeg tri_," Arthur said in Welsh. It was supposed to piss the younger man off. He smirked and tried to figure out the knot on the ropes that bound his hands.**

"Okay, now you're just being a prick." Alfred said, hypocritically. "Fine, next question then," the tall blonde lent forward over the desk, "What are your reasons for being in... um..." Alfred was beginning to lose his focus as he leaned in closer to the Brit, "U-uh..." Oh God, he could smell his cologne... "I-I uh..."

Alfred coughed and quickly recomposed himself after realizing what he was doing. Hopefully Arthur didn't notice. "Ahem, like I was saying… Country of origin?"

**Arthur watched as Alfred lost his focus. The Brit raised a thick eyebrow for a second before the bespectacled male regained control of himself and asked him the next question. He scrunched his nose in an angry glare at the younger male and curtly replied, "United Kingdom, you stupid git." He found the way to undo the knot and started to slowly un-tie the well tied rope.**

Alfred made a note on his clipboard. Not because he needed to write it down, but he just wanted to annoy the Brit further. "Alright, now let's get down to the real reason why your here." The cerulean-eyed man said as Arthur rolled his eyes. "Were you aware that you were trespassing in North American waters?" Alfred glared down at the shorter male.

**"The hell I was trespassing on American waters," the Brit yelled through his teeth, "If anything, your men were on my waters. I don't know what the hell your men are smoking, but they obviously don't know their geography and neither do you." Arthur got out of the first part of the knot, keeping the small victory smile to himself.**

"Really?" Alfred smirked, "Because these papers say otherwise." The American slid a folder towards Arthur and then proceeded to open it. Inside was a satellite picture of the galleon 80 kilometers off the coast of North America with the naval ships in pursuit. "You were in American territory all right. Do you realize what a problem you've caused? With terrorists on the rise, do you really think we have time for this?" Alfred sneered, "But I guess that's to be expected from sea scum like you."

**Arthur stayed silent for a minute before he said, "I was exactly 50 kilometers from my own shores when your ships started chasing me." He sighed and closed his eyes in frustration, "I don't understand why you're such a dick to me. I raised you right and you turned into a little monster. Maybe I should've let France and Spain have you. They probably would've been able to control you." He opened regret filled green orbs and didn't look at the bigger blonde, "Of course, you probably wouldn't be as free to do whatever the hell you want. That would have probably been a good thing for me, actually."**

Alfred's smirk faded quickly. That's what Arthur really thought? That he was being a dick? Alfred sighed. Maybe the stress from the economy and war were getting to him. But this was serious. Alfred had to keep focus... but how could he when the Englishman looked at him like that? With that sad look in his beau-NO! Alfred wasn't going there. Questioning the former pirate was much more important right now. Alfred opened his mouth to say something to the Brit, but found that he couldn't find anything _to _say. So, he closed his mouth and waited for Arthur to say something. _Anything._

**When Alfred didn't answer, the blonde continued, "You know I wasn't doing anything illegal. I didn't plunder or do anything actual pirates do. I was only sailing to free my mind. If you arrest and convict innocent people, aren't you going against your own laws? Aren't you being a hypocrite? What was that saying again? _Innocent until proven guilty?_ I wasn't doing anything wrong, Alfred. So, why pass me off as a convict, when I am innocent?" The green orbs finally looked straight into the cerulean ones.**

Alfred was shocked to say the least. A-Arthur was right, wasn't he? "I-I..." the nation stopped himself before he could say something stupid. Why was he trying so hard to convict Arthur? As soon as his men had contacted him informing him of Arthur's sailing, he had been so ready to lock Arthur up in an American prison and throw away the key. But _why_? Alfred mulled it over in his mind. It didn't have anything to do with wanting to see the Brit, Alfred was absolutely sure of it! No way! Nuh uh... uh... okay so maybe that was the reason, but you couldn't blame the guy! Arthur wasn't all that bad underneath all that... that... _Britishness_! The American groaned. He was seriously confusing himself now. "You know, this is all really stupid." he mumbled.

**Arthur sighed before replying, "Now you see what I see." The Brit freed himself from the rope that had held his hands together and rubbed the sores that had formed. "Now will you please let my friend go? He really didn't deserve all this." The Brit continued, rubbing his face with his hands. God, it had itched this entire time. It always happened that the moment the Brit's hands were busy, he'd get a random itch. Ugh…**

Alfred wasn't necessarily surprised that Arthur had gotten out of the binds that easily, but it still gave him a small shock. "U-Um, yeah sure, let's go get him I guess..." Alfred walked out of the room with Arthur following behind. He turned back down the hallway they had come through and stopped in front of a prison cell. "You're free to go," the American mumbled, "Tell my men to escort you back to your ship. Your captain will join you in awhile. I think we need to sort some stuff out."

**Arthur silently followed Alfred to his friend John. "I'll try and be quick so we can get back home," he told the other man as Alfred started leading him away from the room. The Brit didn't say anything more after that. He was awestruck by Alfred's maturity of the situation. The whole time, the American was acting like a child and now, all of a sudden, he was acting like someone that the Brit raised. Alfred was acting like someone Arthur could actually have feelings for. The Englishman blushed a bit at this but kept following Alfred.**

Said American wasn't really sure what he wanted to say to the Brit, so he kept walking down the hallway trying to come up with a question for Arthur. Not coming up with anything of the top of his head, Alfred began to make his way to his office. As he slowly made his way down the hallway, a lot of strange thoughts began forming in his head: Was Arthur mad at him for his earlier behavior? Would he never speak to him again? What did the Brit think of him anyway? What did Alfred even think of Arthur? No really, what did he think of Arthur? Sure, he wasn't bad to look at, and no matter what the American had said earlier, Arthur did _not _look tacky in that jacket. Ahem… But he did have those really big eyebrows... N-Not like they looked bad on him or anything. They suited the Brit actually, but is that all Alfred saw in him? Looks? What about his personality? Poor to say the least. Seriously, what did he even do for fun? Oh wait... that's right, sail around the ocean like a loon in the middle of the twenty-first century. B-But, it was strangely endearing. Oh God, Alfred did _not_ just think that! What was he even thinking about anymore? Oh right, what to ask Arthur. But as the American got his thoughts back on track, he realized that he'd made it to his office. Well, damn, what was he supposed to do now?

**Arthur's body and face kept stoically calm, but his mind was nothing but. What was Alfred going to say? Was he going to do anything? Why were they headed towards his office? Why did he even have an office on ship anyway? All of these thoughts made the Brit's head spin and his nerves ache. He needed an Advil and a cup of tea.**

**The blonde felt his eyes wonder up and down Alfred's body. For a man that ate 20 times the normal amount, he looked good. The American was toned, but not overly so. Tanned skin suggested many a trip to the beach or pool. Arthur felt himself gulp down a lump in his throat when his eyes scanned the other's back. The broad shoulders and stiff back muscles showed a tale tell sign of working out and lifting weights. A blush covered the Englishman's cheeks and tainted his own coveted tanned skin. Of course, he wasn't nearly as tan as Alfred, but… Oh, God! He had to stop thinking about him. The taller man was driving him to complete and utter madness.**

Alfred stopped in front of the door to his office and placed his hand on the door knob. He had no idea what to say to the ex-pirate. All his thoughts were becoming jumbled and clouded, but one clear thing that shown out through all the rest was Arthur. Arthur's blonde hair, Arthur's green eyes, Arthur's rare smile that made Alfred's heart flip, Arthur's way of talking, Arthur's...lips. Alfred blushed a deep shade of scarlet. He knew the question he wanted to ask Arthur now, more than anything. But he couldn't do it in words...

Alfred turned away from the door swiftly, and stared at the Brit for a moment. Arthur only had a moment to look puzzled at the expression on the taller man's face before he was pushed against the opposite wall as Alfred took his lips in his own. Alfred wasn't sure if this was going to work, and he was waiting for the Brit to punch him in the face, but was surprised when Arthur grabbed onto his dress shirt and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. Alfred's mind was becoming fuzzy as his explored Arthur's mouth. He wrapped his arm around the smaller man's waist and pulled him even closer as he stepped back towards the office. Once inside the entrance, the American kicked the door closed and pushed the Englishman against the door.

**Arthur was too deep in the kiss to notice anything that Alfred was doing outside of the two melding together. Alfred's lips were as soft as freshly laid snow in the winter time. His mouth, however, was as hot as the summertime in the desert. Though, one question plagued the Brit's mind. He slowly but firmly pushed Alfred away, "Why? Why me? Why not Seychelles or Scotland or Cuba or Canada? Why choose me?" The green orbs looked curiously into the American's cerulean ones in questioning. He wanted to melt into the taller man's love once again, but he couldn't if it was fleeting. Why risk his heart again if this love or lust or whatever Alfred was feeling was fleeting?**

"Because I want you." It came out of Alfred's mouth before he could even register the question. Well then. That answers that, but Arthur was giving him a look that practically screamed he didn't believe him. "Well first of all," the American began explaining, knowing he wasn't going to get to ravish the Brit again if he didn't, "Seychelles is French... and you know me and the French... Ahaha~. And Scotland's a creep, and always will be. And Cuba? Seriously? Do I need to even explain why that wouldn't work? And as for Mattie? Yeah I love him, but like a brother, because well, he's my brother. And if you don't think that that's not a good enough explanation for you, then hear this. I cannot stand you not being here, okay?" Alfred was practically shouting now, "The only reason I was being such an asshole was because I wanted you to stay here longer. Soon you're going to have to get on your ship and go back home, a-and I don't want you to leave without knowing that you're the one I-I...l-l-love..." the taller male trailed off as the realization finally hit him. Sure, what he did earlier was spontaneous, but he didn't know if that was love or just lust. But now he was certain he loved Arthur. He would never feel this way for anyone else. He had never had felt this way before now. He definitely would never act this rash either.

**Arthur was taken aback by Alfred's direct answer. He didn't want him to leave. The taller man loved him. All of this made the smaller man leap for joy inside, but a small fact still irked him. He did have to go home now. But, now with Alfred giving him a reason to stay, what was keeping him from coming back? The smaller man connected his lips once again to Alfred's, but only for a short time before breaking away to say, "I do have to return home, but only to take John home. However, there's nothing stopping you from sailing home with me." The Brit pecked the taller man's chin; it was too hard to reach his cheek, "Come on. It'll be fun. Then, we can fly back over here."**

"Since when are you the fun one?" Alfred teased. Oh yes, he was definitely going with Arthur now. His men could manage. The American was only there for the captive anyway. The Naval officers would be fine under their normal leaders. "So are we going or what?" He asked as he grabbed the Brit's hand and began pulling him out the door.

**Arthur raised an eyebrow and said, "I always was, but you never realized it. And where do you think you're going." He pulled Alfred back and said in a husky whisper, "I wasn't done." He then kissed the bespectacled blonde roughly, wrapping his arms around the larger man's neck. Oh God, did he love the feeling of his lips on the other man's. Alfred tasted of burgers and chocolate, an odd combination, but it some how worked for him.**

Alfred wrapped his arms around the Brit again, relishing in the heated contact. Oh yeah he could stay like this forever. "Ahem." A clearing throat caused the two nations to jump apart, blushing furiously. "Sorry to interrupt your... talk, but I would like to get home soon." John smirked as he poked his head in the doorway. The naval officer behind him only snickered. Alfred cleared his throat, as did Arthur. "Well then," the American laughed, "Let's get going!" He grabbed Arthur's hand and pulled him out the door, laughing and running down the hall. John followed behind slowly, snickering to himself as the British nation yelled curses at Alfred to slow down. "Kids these days, I swear."


End file.
